


Smile

by hackson_hatsoff



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Español | Spanish, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Mcsombra, Post-Recall, Sombra Joins Overwatch AU, Stubborn Sombra, confused feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hackson_hatsoff/pseuds/hackson_hatsoff
Summary: Jesse goes on a blind date and Sombra doesn't care.--A request from tumblr based on this prompt:"You've been pouting ever since I went on that date, what's up?"





	1. Anger

**Author's Note:**

> Original post: https://itshigh-boop.tumblr.com/post/171044535976/if-youre-doing-requests-would-you-do-a-mcsombra

“Knock knock,” came McCree’s drawl along with the sharp knock of his rough knuckles at her door.

The noise startled Sombra but she didn’t jump, instead letting her silence be his invitation to step inside her work space. The clink of his spurs were drowned out by the loud hum of the machines she worked with and stopped once he was standing at a respectful distance from her chair.

“Been cooped up in here an awful long time, don’t ya think?”

_“Tengo mucho que hacer. Así que te lo agredezco que me dejaras en paz.”_

With a small nod, McCree moved to lean against the wall, folding his arms over as he watched the woman work. She seemed to leave it at that and he let the dim lighting, low electric hum, and the monotonous sound of her typing nearly lull him to sleep. Apparently his presence soon grated on her last nerve. Spinning in her chair, she swiveled to face him, the skin between her eyebrows pinched in irritation. 

_“¿Que quieres? ¿Que no te dije que tengo mucho ha terminar?”_

He heard her alright. But he was far too busy thinking why she was so short and angry with him. And he knew she was angry; Sombra knew a great deal of English and spoke it fairly often, especially around the others. However, he’d noted in his dealings with her that she slipped back into Spanish when she was really feeling something and not just masking her emotions with fleeting grins.

“I heard ya loud and clear. I just came in to check up on you. I ain’t seen you in a while. No one has.”

Sombra scoffed, turning back to her computer. “If that’s all then you can leave.” 

“I’m just asking a question. No need to be so hostile.”

Clicking her tongue, Sombra began typing away. “As you might remember, McCree, I’m only here because you put in a good word for me when your buddies decided to get together again and I defected from Talon. They don’t trust me, with good reason, and so they stay away. Or maybe I do them a favor and stay out of their way.” Her typing increased in intensity, fingers striking each key. “In any case, I prefer being alone.” 

In truth, his continued presence in her space gave her a sense of comfort that she hadn’t felt in weeks. Ever since she stepped foot on the base and especially ever since the damn pilot-

“It’s just strange, that’s all.”

Sighing, Sombra rubbed at her forehead. “What is, McCree?”

“Yer face.” When she turned to accost him with a frown, he shrugged, eyes downcast as he fiddled with his belt buckle. “Ya been pouting ever since I went on that date.” His brown eyes glanced up at her. “What’s up with that?”

A look of confusion briefly touched her features, biting her lower lip and worrying it between her teeth. 

_“¿Qué es ‘pouting’?”_

“What you’ve been doin’ ever since then.”

She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t help.” A quick search for the definition and she scoffed. 

_“¿Haciendo pucheros?”_ Another scoff. “Am not.”

“Are too. Got to be honest with ya, Sombra, it ain’t a good look for ya.” The furrowed eyebrows, eyes alert instead of drooped in a bored or amused haze, lips in a firm line instead of quirked in the smart little grin that he was so used to - it was all very unsettling compared to her usual demeanor, especially her cocky air. McCree thought at times that it was impossible for Sombra not to smirk.

Apparently he’d gone too far. She stood and stepped in front of him, and despite nearly being a head shorter than him, the look in her eyes gave her the aura of a giant looming over him. 

“If I’m ‘pouting’, then it’s because this place bores me to death. Maybe I’m just wondering why I ever thought that this arrangement was a good idea.” She gave a quick jut of her chin, and a tense smile, eyes holding no amusement. “That’s probably why I’m ‘pouting’, McCree.” She grabbed the back of her chair, settling herself with more force than necessary and moved back to her usual spot. “Now if you’re done with the questions, leave. I’ve got work to finish.” 

He let the silence pass through them again. McCree removed his hat, running a hand through his hair and exhaled through his nose. “Alright.” Pushing himself off the wall, he readjusted his hat, moving toward the door. He gripped the threshold, pausing to turn and stare at her back, illuminated by the computer glow. “Don’t forget to eat,” he began. “Won’t do anyone any good to have ya pass out. Maybe I’ll see ya in the mess hall.” 

When there was no response other than the cold, hollow sound of fingers tapping against keys, he left. Sombra heard the thud of his boots and tinkle of his spurs echo in the hallway until they faded away. Once she was sure he was gone, she stopped typing, leaning her forehead against an upturned palm. 

Just what in the hell was wrong with her? And why was it that his presence had her feeling a gentle calm in one moment and an inexplicable fury in the next? It was a nasty, boiling sensation that burned at her ears and lower belly. 

Ever since the date…what, the blind date that Oxton had surprised McCree with out of the blue one evening? Sombra remembered chatting with him one evening over coffee in the mess hall. It’d been a few days since she was able to sit and relax with the gunslinger after arriving on base with him. It felt nice - she was used to those one-on-one conversations and exchange of pleasantries and harmless jokes that they shared before her ‘resignation’ from Talon. It was how they became…acquaintances. She valued the time she had with her closest thing to a friend dearly, even if she never said anything.

Then the little pilot came bounding in, ignoring Sombra’s presence completely as she proudly announced to McCree that she’d done him the pleasure of setting him up on a date. Of course, he was confused, the question of ‘why’ evident on his face while Sombra felt a sort of dread. She’d excused herself, leaving them to discuss the details. How she wanted nothing more than to swipe the little grin that Oxton passed her off that cute face of hers. 

Of course Sombra couldn’t smother her curiosity. It was pathetically easy to look up exactly who this date was. Someone around McCree’s age - an Overwatch operative when it was still active. Not Blackwatch but apparently the two had a respectable enough acquaintanceship. 

It wasn’t so much the date that bothered her…just…the fact that it would potentially cut their already short time spent together on their rare free days. Yes…that was it. 

And then she heard nothing of it. As he said, he hadn’t seen her. Since then, she absorbed herself in her work. He didn’t tell her about it and she didn’t ask. In any case, perhaps it was better she didn’t know. She didn’t want to know. 

Sombra peered over her shoulder, watching the door where just moments before, the gunslinger stood. She heaved another sigh, knowing that she probably took it too far with him. It was too late now. She wanted to be alone, right?

The glow of the computer began blaring uncomfortably against her retinas. She reached over, pressing the power button to the monitor off and immediately, her eyes closed in relief. Sombra placed her elbows against her desk, interlacing her fingers and leaned forward until her forehead pressed against her hands.

“I need a drink.”


	2. Regret

If there were ever a reason to hate Talon agents even more, today would be that day. Now she sat in a small briefing room with both the giant, talking gorilla and the “mysterious” Soldier 76, going over her first and more than likely last mission off of base. 

_“¿Cuál es la problema?”_ Sombra leaned back in her chair, flinching as she did so, the dull ache in her side suddenly flaring to a sharp pain. “I got what you needed. Mission complete, _no_?” 

76 leaned against the table and sighed - a worn, raspy sound. “What you did was reckless. McCree’s not a kid. He can handle himself.”

She didn’t even need to put effort into the conversation to know what the outcome would be. She inspected her nails. “I’m not saying he can’t. I just did it because I felt like it.” Sombra’s shoulders twitched in a small shrug. “You should be happy – doesn’t this mean I’m willing to risk my life for teammates? Comradery and all that good stuff?” 

The worn leather of his jacket cracked as 76 approached her. “Risking your life unnecessarily will only hinder the mission. I don’t know how your buddies handled things in Talon.” A thick, gloved finger pressed down onto the arm of her chair, emphasizing his every word with a hollow ‘thump’. “But I’m telling you now, that isn’t how things work _here_.”

“Soldier 76, please,” came the voice of the scientist. Winston cleared his throat and looked to Sombra, a steady frown on his broad face. She didn’t blame him - she’d be pretty mad too if the person who reverse engineered her technology was to wind up on her ‘team’. Probably. 

“In light of what’s happened, Miss Sombra, we feel it’s best that you’re grounded for any future missions until further notice.”

Typical.

“Soldier 76 and I think you would benefit from team strategy training - we know the change from Talon must be one difficult to adapt.” 

Sure, it was difficult - not caring for Overwatch any more than she did Talon could make any sort of ‘betterment’ challenging. 

“But it’s a change that you’ll have to make, all the same. That’s why we believe it’s important for you to-”

“Mmm, I got it,” Sombra interrupted with a drawn-out sigh, standing from her chair. “You’re right or whatever. I’m better at computer stuff anyway.” That’s the only reason they bothered listening to McCree’s case for her. They knew her value and with still being under scrutiny with the Petras Act, this group of vigilantes couldn't afford to turn her down in favor of morals. “I’ll stay on base. Don’t worry about that, _jefes_.” 

She didn’t miss 76 straightening his posture, shoulders tense and hands forming into fists at his sides. Were the visor bright orange visor not in the way, she was sure those steel-blue eyes would be glaring at her audacity.

“Yes...well, thank you for understanding. Athena will inform you of your scheduled training as soon as we agree upon a time. You’re excused, Sombra.” 

The hacker was already halfway out the door, giving a silent wave of acknowledgment as the door slid shut behind her. 

She was glad this ‘reformed’ Overwatch wasn’t taking off too well...that meant less people to bump into through the hallway. Still, Sombra found herself taking each shortcut and passage hidden in the shadows to avoid any sort of contact with anyone, especially McCree. He was the last person she wanted to see after that flop of a mission.

And no matter what she did, he wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Stupid cowboy-wannabe. Even when he wasn’t trying he was still bothering her. Now she wondered if she’d be better off if she let that rogue bullet hit its intended target. 

The dull ache in her side had her hissing and quickly covering it with her hand. _You know that isn’t true_ , rang a voice in her head. No, it wasn’t true but it would have saved her a lecture and what essentially was an imprisonment on this godforsaken rock.

She made her way past the small medical ward, only to be stopped by the sound of a door opening and the sight of platinum blonde locks. The doctor stepped forward, turning her head when catching sight of Sombra and smiled. 

“Ah, Miss Sombra. You are just the person I was looking for.”

Great. More people to interact with. What more could she possibly want from today? “What I’d do this time?” 

Mercy shook her head. “Well, returning from a mission and not coming to see me immediately afterward, for one.” The doctor stepped aside, gesturing for the hacker to make her way into the ward. “Please, come inside. I’d like to check you for any injuries that need tending.”

Shifting her weight, Sombra tried not to make the pain in her side obvious. “ _Mira_ , doctor...it’s been a long day. Can’t I come back tomorrow or something?” 

“I insist, Miss Sombra,” Ziegler said once again.

There was a silence between the two before Sombra sighed, wanting to get this over with and head back to her room. “Fine. You got it.”

\--

“I wish you would have seen me sooner - I could have alleviated the pain you’ve been in quite easily,” scolded the doctor as she finished wrapping the gauze around Sombra’s waist. 

Sombra stared at nothing in particular over the doctor’s head, leaning back on her arms. “...Probably.” 

Another moment of silence until Mercy stepped back. “Alright, you can redress. I’m done for now.” 

“For now?” questioned Sombra as she slipped her top back on. “What’s next, a shot?” 

With her hands in her lab coat pockets, Mercy simply smiled at her before turning to walk to her desk. “So,” she began. “When are you going to see McCree?”

Sombra stopped putting on her jacket when the man’s name reached her ears. “ _¿Qué?_

“McCree,” repeated Mercy, not looking up from writing on her clipboard of notes. “He’s been in here exactly six times and asking if I’ve seen you. It’s rather annoying.” The doctor tapped her pen against her lip. “Shall I call him now to come see you?” 

“No!” 

Whether she wanted to die from frustration or embarrassment, Sombra didn’t know. What she really wanted more than anything was to just get back to her room, slink her under covers and pretend she was back in Castillo. Nevertheless, her outburst didn’t seem to catch the doctor by surprise. Instead, Mercy stood and walked toward the medical bed. 

“Sombra?” When Sombra lifted her head, the doctor regarded with a look that the hacker swore was pity. “Meet with him.” 

She snorted. “Why should I do that?” 

“Because it’s obvious he’s concerned for you.” She shrugged. “Or perhaps he wants to  
make sure you’re doing alright after what happened.” 

It didn’t take any verbal response from Sombra to let the doctor know what question was running rampant through her mind. Mercy nodded. “Yes. I read the brief.” 

Sombra’s shoulder slumped with a sigh. “Great. That’s what I needed.” It wasn’t like the doctor needed to know how it happened, just what happened. If she had access to that, who knew who else would have read it by now? 

A hand, gentle but firm, grasped Sombra’s shoulder. “At the very least it’s common courtesy if you know he’s looking for you.” 

“ _Dios_ ,” Sombra muttered. “ _Por favor_ , don’t call him.” 

“No,” Mercy shook her head. “I will not.” Before Sombra could thank her (and why should she, what business was it of this woman’s to interfere?), the doctor continued. “But I suggest you do. It might relieve some of the stress that’s been causing your injury to worsen.” 

With a simple pat to her arm, Mercy went back to her desk, sitting down in her rolling chair with a rusty squeak. “Doctor’s orders.” 

Sombra left the exam room quickly, not wanting to stick around to wonder why this woman was giving her cryptic advice, about McCree, no less.  
The way to her room seemed further than ever but at least the large, cavernous halls of Gibraltar were practically abandoned. Along the route back, she’d pass by a small break room, if she remembered the maps correctly. Maybe a cup of coffee to take to her room would settle her nerves. 

Finding the room earned her a breath of relief. Finding it empty was even better. She moved toward the coffee maker, already eager to have a cup to go. As she prepared her drink, the aroma of the coffee beans filled her nostrils and relaxed her, causing the tension in her body to disappear as she slumped slightly against the counter. 

Maybe she could have a relatively peaceful evening.

“Sombra…”

Never mind.

“McCree.” Might as well get this over with. She turned and found him standing at the doorway, serape, chaps, and chest armor gone but still with that ridiculous hat of his.

He lingered at the threshold until he stepped forward into the room with her (did it get harder to breathe, suddenly? When had the walls inched closer?) and looked her up and down. “...How are ya?”

She studied a rather interesting scuff on the tile floor beneath her feet. “Good. You know, still here. Getting some coffee.” 

His brows furrowed and the lines around his mouth sunk along with his frown. All that echoed in the room was the sound of the coffee maker doing its job. She hoped the coffee was good enough to warrant this painful meeting.

“What were you thinking?” McCree finally questioned, breaking the silence.

Sombra resisted the urge to roll her eyes and push past him. “Yes, yes, I know, I _wasn’t_ thinking. Your friends let me know already. You don’t have to tell me.” 

“That…” McCree pressed a finger to his forehead. “Naw. Ain’t gonna bother.” She briefly toyed with the idea of just leaving as the gunslinger had his little meltdown before he continued. “Look, Sombra, I appreciate what you did...but don’t do it again.” 

That had her raising a brow. “You’ve got a death wish, then?” She don’t know why that sentence left such a bad taste in her mouth.

McCree shook his head. “Ain’t the point.” He moved closer and Sombra felt the room grow even smaller, like a vice slowly squeezing every last bit of sanity out of her. “Why can’t you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Maybe if you actually said what you meant, we wouldn’t be standing here having this one-sided conversation, _pistolero_ ,” Sombra nearly growled in response, getting tired of this place, its inhabitants, and especially of people cornering her. 

“Don't you get it? I don't want you pullin’ stupid stunts like that anymore because-”

“Jesse!”

For once, Sombra was relieved to hear Tracer’s annoyingly chipper voice. The ex-pilot came bounding into the room, a hand to McCree’s shoulder. “Been lookin’ for you, I have!”

She tilted her head, acknowledging Sombra, surprisingly, and raised a brow. “Anything wrong, love?” she asked, obviously addressing McCree.

The gunslinger grit his teeth, turning toward her. “Lena,” he began. It actually amazed Sombra that she could hear how hard he was trying not to snap. “This ain't a good time. We were just in the middle o’-”

“Actually,” Sombra interrupted, having quickly poured herself some coffee while Tracer distracted McCree. She looked down to her wrist at an invisible watch, eyes widening in faux surprise. “I have to get going. Maybe I'll talk to you later, McCree.”

“Sombra-”

But she wouldn't have it. She was already confined to this forsaken rock - she'd rather not be jailed for any strangling that might occur as a result of staying around two sources of her stress. Moving past the two, she briefly nodded to Tracer. “He's all yours.”

Gingerly, she walked down the corridor to her room, careful with her cup of hot coffee. Tracer didn't wait until Sombra was far off to start talking. 

“Anyway, love, I've got some great news for you! I just talked to Powell and they’ve agreed to a second date! What’dya say?” 

Oh, good. A second date. Then things were going well - he must have really enjoyed that first date.

Good for him.

The coffee threatened to spill over and splash at her wrists with her quickened step. Sombra didn’t need to turn around to know McCree’s gaze was upon her. She could feel the pointed stare on the back of her head.

“Yeah.” His volume increased. “Sure. Tell ‘em I’m down for round two. Thanks, Lena.”

Sombra had never tasted coffee so bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Visit my tumblr!](https://itshigh-boop.tumblr.com/)


	3. Smile

Sombra had never been in jail.

Never once had she been apprehended for the things she’s done. It was something that she took great pride in. But she was quite certain that the past month confined to Gibraltar was the closest thing she’d ever get to actually being stuck in prison. 

Thinking about the situation that led to being stuck on the island made her grit her teeth in spite. This is what happened when you decided to care about someone. Care about them living or dying, anyway, Sombra clarified to herself, letting herself nod as if having a conversation. Might as well - who else would she talk to?

The only other person she really spoke to was McCree and ever since that afternoon, she hadn’t seen him again. About a week after that day, he was shipped out on some mission to India along with the ex-Vishkar architect and Miss Orange Jumpsuit. She didn’t want to admit it to herself but she’d counted the days; it’d been about a month since the last time she saw him - even longer since she had a decent conversation.

She never considered herself a social person but even when she was growing up alone, there were always like-minded individuals over the net to anonymously chat with. Talon agents were just about as interesting as Overwatch drones, and attempting to relate to the Spider and Gabriel was like relating to a brick wall. Her standards for friendship before she met the gunslinger were downright abysmal. Getting to know him and maintaining a relationship that was more than receiving threats, blackmail, and thinly veiled insults set the bar pretty high. 

_And then you went and ruined it._

No, she shook her head, not ruined it. There was nothing _to_ ruin - if anything, he ruined any friendship they might have had by refusing to leave her in peace that day. If only he hadn't gone on that stupid- 

“I really need that drink,” she muttered to herself, looking down to keep an eye on the state of the shredded tortilla pieces sizzling in the frying pan. They looked just about done. Reaching over, she grabbed the bowl of beaten eggs, pouring the bright yellow substance into the pan with a satisfying hiss. A few turns with her mixing spoon already had the eggs solidifying and turning fluffy. 

The aroma that reached her nostrils had her sighing; it reminded her of being home, where there were always scents drifting through the air, whether it was the flowery soap of a mother doing laundry, the fresh bread from the bakery, or the salt from the waves of the gulf. Thinking about Mexico set a heavy sinking in her chest as she turned the eggs over in the pan.

“Smells good.”

People really had to stop sneaking up on her - that was something _she_ was used to doing. But she had no time to stay annoyed when she realized who’d managed to catch her off guard.

The glint off the brass of that ridiculous belt buckle caught her eyes and caused a strange flutter in her gut. 

“Yeah,” said Sombra. “ _¿Quieres?_ ” She took a quick glance into the pan. “Think I made too much.” 

With a scuff of his boots, the gunslinger entered the kitchen and leaned forward to rest against the counter just behind her.

“A chance to eat some decent cookin’? Don't mind if I do,” he said with a tip of his hat and she scoffed, rolling her eyes and attempting to hide a smile. 

“Where'd ya get the tortillas?” McCree asked, and this time, the stare she felt on her back didn't bother her so much. 

“Last time there was a requisition order, I basically demanded a box.” Sombra shuddered. “If I had to eat _pinche_ mashed potatoes _y pollo con gravy o lo que sea_ one more time…”

The bark of laughter from McCree caused her to jump but had her grinning anyway. “Yeah, the food here ain't too good.”

“ _Es mierda,_ ” Sombra corrected him, turning off the burner and grabbing two trays, serving equal portions of egg for them both. 

He took the extended tray from her, nodding in thanks. “I’m sure someone would’ve let ya gone to shore on a supply run if ya asked.”

Sombra handed him a fork and gave him a flat look. “ _Ay, por favor,_ ” she almost laughed. “Like someone confined to base is going to get permission to leave for food.” 

She regretted bringing up the incident that she’d refused to talk about with him when a look of pity and shame passed over his features. Quickly, she grabbed her own bottle of hot sauce and poured a bit over her eggs. “Anyway, Spanish food is okay...but nothing beats food from home.” 

“You miss it, don’t you?” McCree questioned, taking the bottle from her after she was done, nearly slathering his own eggs with the spicy condiment. 

Sombra said nothing in return but passed him an empty smile. Instead, she chose to ask about his mission, to which he groaned and asked if they could change the subject due to how completely over he was with it. She teased him, offering to catch him up on all the _chisme_ which earned her another chuckle (a sound that Sombra refused to acknowledge had her feeling very warm in the face). 

Their conversation over food felt nice - it was good to just relax again. It reminded her of how she and McCree interacted before she was swept into the Overwatch mess. And of course, had she the ability of hindsight, she would’ve had swallowed her own tongue before mentioning the ‘d’ word. 

“By the way,” she began, not truly thinking clearly about her next choice of words. “Sorry that I never asked.” 

McCree blinked. “About what?” 

“Your date, the one that Orange set you up on.” It wasn’t until those syllables left her mouth that she wanted to kick herself swiftly and painfully. “How’d...it go?” 

There was a small pause of silence between them and Sombra wondered if she’d just ruined what seemed to have been a good afternoon. He then sighed and gave her a weak grin and he looked more tired than before, the few wrinkles around his eyes setting heavily. 

“Interested, are ya?” 

She shrugged, hoping her nonchalant air would play off. “We were interrupted that one time and I never got to ask you. Besides, it’s in my business to be nosy. _Tú lo sabes._ ” 

Something passed through his eyes, a flicker of an unknown emotion as he sighed, wiping his mouth with his napkin then crumpling the paper in his fist. “Wasn’t that exciting. It was pretty awkward, if I’m bein’ honest.” His finger toyed with the edge of the tray as he spoke. “We just went out for drinks; nothing wrong with that. But we made it pretty clear that we wouldn't want to do it again.” 

Sombra’s grip on her fork lessened, unknowing that she’d been holding it so tightly, to the point the metal left an indent on the skin of her palm. “Why?” 

“Well,” McCree’s tongue briefly swiped over his lips, as if contemplating what to say next. “They weren’t interested. _I_ certainly wasn’t interested.” 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly finding it dry. “Then the second time?” she asked, hating how small her voice sounded. 

A curt, breathy chuckle followed, with McCree resting his chin against his closed fist as he stared at nothing in particular. “I knew something had to be up. Went to confirm whether the last time really was just that. It was.” His brows furrowed slightly. “When I saw Lena again, I told her not to set me up on anythin’ anymore. She means well but…,” He glanced toward her and winked. “I can find my own dates just fine.” 

Refusing to react like a fool to his attempts at being charming, Sombra busied herself with taking her now empty tray to the sink, grabbing the frying pan off the stove along the way. “You sure that was a smart move?” She threw him a grin over her shoulder. “You’re not getting any younger.”

He feigned offense with a sharp gasp and his prosthetic metal hand clutched at his chest. “Ya callin’ me _old?_ ” he asked, getting up and taking his own tray to the sink.

“Hmm.” She turned the faucet on, letting warm water run over the dishes and her hands. “Not old...but old fashioned, maybe.” McCree settled next to her and his close proximity both calmed and terrified her. “Aren’t you afraid you threw your chance at true love away?” 

“Real funny,” McCree said, slipping his glove over his metal hand and reaching to wash his own tray. “‘sides, I'm sure the right one is still out there waitin’ for me.” 

Snickering, Sombra rinsed the pan, watching the water flow around the circumference of it and trickle down into the drain. Each second spent talking to him had her anxious, wondering when the next blunder would spill from her lips and send them into another awkward mess.

“By the time you find them, they're going to discover that you’re no spring chicken.” She chuckled and sighed. “ _Pobre._ ” 

“Now you’re just bein’ mean. You don’t really mean that, do ya?” 

She looked up, closing her eyes, humming in thought as if just asked an astrophysics question until McCree nudged her in the shoulder, causing her to let out a laugh. “No, I guess you’re alright, _pistolero._ ” 

“Ya don’t know how happy I am to hear that from you.”

Nothing more was said - Sombra continued washing her remaining dishes before turning the water off, quietly thanking McCree for the help. “I should...get going.” She wiped her hands off on a nearby towel. “It was nice talking, though.”

“Yeah, it was.” McCree tipped his hat. “Thanks for the meal; a man could get used to eating like that.” 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s just eggs and tortillas. Nothing fancy.” And cooking was hardly her forte. 

“I’d choose your cookin’ over what we get here any day.”

Already feeling her cheeks flush, she gave a quick nod, eyes flitting to the side where she could make out the doorway in her peripheral vision. “I’ll see you around?” came her next question, wishing that there would be a smooth way to end her interaction with the gunslinger.

“See you around,” he echoed. His voice was devoid of its usual quiet but polite regard. Her head lifted in question at his tone, finding him pressing a hard stare at her. “That mean I ain’t gonna see ya for another few weeks?” 

She’d let her silence be her answer, Sombra decided. Turning, she attempted to leave for the doorway until she felt him grab onto her arm.

“Sombra, wait.” 

His grip was firm but not tight. If she really wanted to, she could shrug her way out and leave him standing in the kitchen. Something in his voice compelled her to stop and hear McCree out.

“I want to talk to you. ‘Bout somethin’ important.” 

Her head ducked slightly as she swallowed the sudden object that felt lodged in her throat. Clearing it with a small cough, she turned back to face him. “ _¿Qué cosa?_ ”

Letting go of her arm, McCree walked around her, blocking her view of the door. “Well, it’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while now...but I feel like this is the right time.” His lips opened in a silent exhale and she noted his shoulders were stiff before they went slack. He was every bit as tense as she was and a small voice at the back of her mind chastised her, telling her she knew exactly what this conversation would be about.

“We’re friends, right?” 

Friends. She was happy at him asking - it alleviated the thought that perhaps they weren’t. But there was also an awful trepidation building inside her - for what reason, she didn’t know. How could she be relieved and anxious at the same time over a simple statement?

“ _Sí. Somos._ ” 

McCree made a noise - not a laugh and not a gasp but the makings of a smile tugged at his lips, his eyes downcast. “I’m glad. I’m real glad ya think so because I consider ya one.” 

Sombra watched as he dipped his hands to gingerly to take hers, lifting them with the flats of his fingers and letting his thumbs drape over the backs of her hands.

“And because you’re my friend, I care about you...but I’ve found that maybe I care ‘bout ya more than a friend should.” 

Her breath caught in her chest, the gulp of air refusing to move down into her lungs or escape. “Should?” she repeated, finding her own voice pathetically small. 

He gave a single nod. “That day you took that bullet for me...I know ya weren’t seriously hurt in the end but for a good minute, I thought ya’d gone and done something incredibly stupid over me.” McCree’s shoulders shook once in a hollow laugh. “ _Because of me._ You had me more worried than I’d been in a long time.” 

The kitchen’s walls seemed to be closing in on her, just like they had in that break room all those weeks ago. The muscles around her stomach cramped and her feet felt like jelly. Had McCree not been holding her hands, Sombra was sure she would’ve slipped to the ground. 

“I did that because you’re my friend. That’s what friends do, right?” she asked when she found the ability to speak again. Her iris-colored eyes searched his own carob, the returned stare all at once intense but more genuine than any truths she’d ever discovered. 

The skin between his eyes pinched for a brief second and he nodded once more. “Yeah. They do. But I feel differently about you, too.” Sombra felt his hands raise her own slightly more and his thumbs pass over her knuckles. “Ya drive me crazy, ya know? Ain’t your fault...but I ain’t been able to sleep right, eat right. Hell, I can’t even breathe when I look at ya.” His head hung low, chin nearly touching his collar and his thumbs pressed down. “I can’t getcha outta my head, Sombra.” His hands suddenly gripped hers tightly and he leaned down. “So when you tell me ‘see you around’... it drives me mad ‘cause we both damn well know that I won’t and you’ll be hauntin’ me til I can see ya again.”

She listened. She knew what this was but she also didn’t know. Not even close. So many private accounts hacked, lives broken into, confessions of love and secret thoughts. How many times had she used one person’s affection for another as leverage to get her closer to her goals? A liability, Sombra deemed it. That’s all it was - if it can be used against you, then it wasn’t worth it. But as she faced McCree, had this inexplicable fear gripping and keeping her chained to her spot, she realized she knew nothing. 

“Maybe I’m just bein’ hopeful,” McCree’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She found him with his head up, staring at her again. “But I can’t help but wonder...can’t help but feel that maybe ya feel the same way about me.” 

There was an overwhelming desire to speak up but the proper words escaped her. What could she say? How did she feel? Like rushing into a light-filled room from pitch black, everything surged her into conjuring the appropriate way to explain herself. Perhaps it was her inability to reply with any intelligible answer that had the already small smile on McCree’s face fading for a quick moment until he forced a bigger smile on his face, its genuinity compromised with how his brows creased. 

“It’s okay if ya don’t,” he said and Sombra’s heart sank along with the subtle dip she felt on his hold on her hands. “Ain’t gonna be mad. I guess I just felt the need to be honest with you.”

When she felt him slowly begin to pull his hands away, her fingers clasped onto his. He stopped and looked at her, what appeared to be a glimmer of hope touching at his expression. 

“ _No sé,_ ” Sombra finally managed to answer. “ _Es que no lo sé._ ” 

“Well,” McCree began, voice almost a whisper. “Maybe I can help. Does any of what I said ‘bout ya...resonate with you?” 

She nodded. She didn’t know why or how to explain but it did. 

“And what are you feeling right now?” When her posture stiffened, he shook his head. “Don’t explain - just tell me.” 

Her head bowed, mind attempting to grab at the right vocabulary but only the most basic of her feelings came forth. “ _Como si quiero vomitar. Como si no puedo pensar._ ” She looked back up at him, her chest heaving in silent but rapid breaths. “ _Como si no puedo respirar._ ” 

“I see.” 

“ _No sé como explicarte lo, McCree,_ ” she admitted. “ _Pero si algo te pasaré me sentiré peor que me siento en este momento._ ” 

Only the rattling buzz of the fluorescent lighting above and their shallow breathing filled the empty noise otherwise looming over them. Sombra, all too aware that her words might have been the incorrect choice, slowly began to pull away, wanting to slip through the doorway and regain herself. This situation was dangerous; McCree had this infuriating way of having her feel dread and hope at the same moment. No one person should have that sort of power over her. But his hands held fast and kept her grounded. 

“And if I told you I wanted to kiss you?” said McCree, leaning down further. His eyes bore into hers but every so often flicker down to her lips. As soon as the word ‘kiss’ left his mouth, she’d been doing the same. “How would you feel?” Soon, he was leaning down even more and Sombra hadn’t realized it but she was balancing on her toes to meet him part of the way. “‘cause Sombra...that’s something I really, _really_ want to do.” 

At this distance, she felt the small puffs of warm breath over her head. Each centimeter closer was like shedding all the anxieties and fears that plagued her and all she felt was the desire to stay close to this man whom she possibly cared for more than as a friend. 

“ _Está bien,_ ” she agreed. “ _Besame._ ” 

Kisses she’d seen in novelas, kisses in books, kisses in art. Kisses taken from her, not shared. Kisses she’s taken but didn’t want. Nothing compared to the chapped pair pressing softly against her own. Her eyes fluttered shut, simply letting herself feel in the moment for once instead of outside of it. 

The scratchy hairs of his beard tickled at her cheeks and chin, feeling the awkward bump of their noses until she tilted her head slightly. His lips didn’t push further; there was no tongue or teeth or sudden grips on her person. A calloused finger stroked her cheek and down her jawline as his lips pecked at the corner of her lips - once, twice, and then pulled away. She felt his chest rise and fall against her own, both breathing like they’d finished running for their lives. Opening her eyes, she found his own still closed, until they slowly opened, revealing the warm umber gaze she hoped was meant only for her.

“ _Uno más,_ ” Sombra whispered, raising her hands to cup his face. “ _¿Dame uno más, McCree?_ ”

A smile stretched across his face, letting his left arm drape around her frame and the other hold her shoulders. “Of course, darlin’,” he said with a laugh. “As many as you want. Until you tell me you’re sick of me.” 

As he dipped her back, slightly raising her off the ground, Sombra wrapped her arms around his broad neck, unable to help the quiet chuckle that escaped her, too.

She smiled against his lips. “ _Nunca._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! There was going to be more to this chapter but I think it got long enough. There might be one more chapter since I feel like some things mentioned in this chapter weren't settled and I felt like it was important. Either way, we'll see. I hope you enjoyed reading it!


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